


Three Brothers

by eiredreyden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Labyrinth (1986), TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-13 07:57:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiredreyden/pseuds/eiredreyden
Summary: Thranduil, Lucius, and Jareth are three brothers whose magic was too powerful for one land to withstand. So, many years ago, they went their separate ways. One rules the Elves, one the Wizards, and one... the Goblins. They haven't spoken in many years, but now something is drawing them back together, for one night only.





	Three Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> This was a one-off fan-fiction that I wrote for a friend, based on a meme that she sent me. Obviously, there's plot holes galore in something like this, so I ask for suspension of disbelief.

Thranduil stood looking out over his kingdom. It was true, the elves had thrived under his rule, but something felt…wrong. Like something was missing. He glanced down at the invitation in his hand, written in his sister-in-law’s perfect script. His brother, one of them anyway, was holding some sort of party and had invited him. Thranduil sneered. His brother would never have deigned to invite him anywhere, it was probably that wife of his. Wizards and witches could always be counted on to think themselves above their station in this world. 

He perfunctorily scrawled out his acquiescence to attend and strode through the halls of his home toward the much unused tower at the back. Silly wizards, insisting on owls to send and retrieve messages. His brother’s owl was there, waiting patiently for the reply. When he’d tied the missive to its claw, it climbed up on his arm and he released it, watching it wheel its way up into the sky. They were such beautiful creatures, but he had little love for their practical use. It seemed ghastly to him that such a creature of beauty would be used as a post delivery system.   
Watching the owl glide out of sight brought thoughts of his other brother to mind. Goblin king indeed; those creatures couldn’t be controlled, not even by Jareth. Lucius was one thing, ruling over the wizards—at least most of them were human and could take basic instruction. The goblins, though…Thranduil shook his head, wondering if Jareth would be able to escape his subjects long enough to make the party Lucius was throwing. 

* * *

In the castle at the center of the Goblin City, Jareth was lounging on his throne, surrounded by a rag-tag bunch of goblins. The small creatures were hitting and biting each other in some kind of ridiculous fight-playing that they were usually engaged in, when they weren’t destroying his labyrinth. In his hand, he held an invitation much like the one Thranduil was responding to at this very moment. He tapped the invitation on his knee pensively while the gloved fingers of his other hand stroked his lower lip in deep thought. Lucius hadn’t bothered to contact him when his son was born, he’d found out from their mother as she bragged about it. He hadn’t contacted Jareth when all that business with his Dark Lord happened, either. Jareth still burned about that, he could have helped. True, most of his magic was relegated to illusions, but even those wizards would believe what they saw if he had showed them a glamour. 

Sighing and running his fingers through his wild hair, Jareth stood and walked to the desk at the far corner of his throne room. The goblins never bothered his writing desk, thank the gods; he couldn’t stand the idea of his gazing orbs or his writing tools being destroyed by these things. Jareth was still a little bitter that he had been forced to come here and handle these creatures. He looked at the bunch of goblins, stoutly ignoring him in their play, and glared with disgust. They were so useless, and he felt useless right alongside them. Lucius got his wizards, with their “real” magic; Thranduil got his elves, with their beauty and immortality. Jareth was stuck with goblins, the worst of the magical creatures and not the least bit useful. 

He scrawled out his reply, glanced at the invitation again and noted that Lucius’ wife was the one who wrote it (she’d always had the best hand, much better than her husband’s chicken scratches), and walked over to the window, where a large owl waited. 

Jareth petted the owl’s breast gently; he’d always had a fondness for them. He handed his reply to the owl, whispering his request in its ear, and the owl clutched the RSVP, nodding slightly and taking flight. Jareth watched it, unaware that Thranduil was doing exactly the same thing in his realm, and turned dejectedly back to the idiots on the floor of the throne room. 

If only Sarah was still here. Thoughts of his bride made his heart ache for her presence. She had returned home to tell her parents of their wedding (Jareth thought for an instant that he should have invited his brothers, then decided once more that it was for the best that he didn’t), and he missed her terribly. She would return in time for the party—whatever the hell Lucius was planning on celebrating, he would at least have her with him for comfort. 

The goblins, in a tumble of limbs and teeth, smashed into the throne and Jareth managed to just barely move his legs out of the way before they were crushed by the ball of idiots.

* * *

“Narcissa! Why am I receiving letters back from my brothers about our party?!” Lucius bellowed as he marched from room to room in their large mansion, looking for his wife. “I thought I told you not to invite them!”

Narcissa Malfoy appeared in the doorway to the library, her face a study in innocence. “I don’t know what you mean, my dear heart. I distinctly remember you saying that you wanted them here to help you celebrate. Besides,” she went on, moving toward Lucius and putting her arms around his neck, “it has been too long since you three were in the same place. Your brother Jareth was recently married, you can congratulate him on that. And I heard that Thranduil was successful in some political thing he had, I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you about it.” 

“Narcissa,” Lucius’ voice was icy. “I don’t want to see my brothers. I haven’t seen them in years, and we like it that way. We never got along, and this won’t be any different.”

She kissed his cheek softly and walked away, saying over her shoulder, “Well, it’s too late now. They’ve already responded that they’re coming.”

Lucius wanted to howl in fury. He had avoided his brothers ever since it was decided by their mother, who would inherit which land. Jareth had always blamed him for the fact that he got the wizards while his younger brother was saddled with the goblins, and Thranduil was as cold as ice since their father had died. It was hardly Lucius’ fault that they didn’t get along, he’d tried everything he could for a while to get them on speaking terms, but the other two just wouldn’t have it. 

Lucius went back to his study to contemplate and remind himself that he did nothing wrong. His wife called this “pouting”, but she didn’t understand. Lucius was more alone than he ever wanted to be in this life; the two he’d always thought he could count on had abandoned him all because of a ruling their mother made, without his bidding. He’d never wanted to rule the wizards, the pack of fools. He just wanted his brothers by his side.

================================================================

The day of the party arrived, and Thranduil was readying himself for the crossing. This was always tricky, and took more energy than he’d liked, but he had sent word that he would go, so he prepared to go. His son stood in the arched doorway of the portal room, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. 

“I don’t understand why you’re going, Father. You hate my uncles, and you’ve never had much love for their kin. Why take part in this farce?”

Thranduil paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Your Aunt Narcissa specifically invited me, and I suspect your Uncle Jareth, also. If she went to that trouble, it was intentional. I will not be the only one to not show up, causing a greater rift in our family. Your grandmother’s plan was for us to rule these lands together, in harmony. That has never been the case. We pick at each other, bickering and fighting, just as bad as Jareth’s goblins. If this is a chance to mend the fences between our worlds, I will take it.”

Legolas just shook his head and walked away, muttering about crazy relatives.

Thranduil adjusted his robes and walked to the portal that led to Lucius’ grounds in the wizarding world. He sighed heavily, stood before the portal for a moment, and stepped through.

Jareth wasn’t so lucky. His send off was loud, raucous, and dangerous. One of the goblins had gotten her hands on some mild explosives and was tossing them around the castle with cackling glee. Sarah had a long-suffering smile on her face as she watched him, in his formal attire, try to chase down the offending little imp. Once, he was almost blown aside when she lit a stick of the explosive and tossed it right at him. That was it; he was officially done with these things. He reached forward, his magic extending his reach to the goblin, and grabbed her by the hair. Pulling her back to him, he took the satchel of explosives from her and tossed them out the window, into the river. The goblin looked up at him with a dirty face, and tried to bite him.

Tossing her aside, he strode to the far wall where Sarah waited in her ball gown. The use of that crystalline gown was something of an inside joke between the two of them now, after all these years since he’d used it in a glamour on her. He gazed into her face, marveling at the fact that she hadn’t seemed to age a day in all that time, and took her hand. Understanding his need and his insecurities at what they were doing, she squeezed his hand and leaned up to kiss him. 

Jareth beamed at her affection; he couldn’t believe he had been so lucky as to have her in his life. She was his life—he was sure of it. He took a small orb out of his pocket and tossed it at the wall. The orb shattered into a million pieces, each of which gleamed in the failing light around the castle’s windows. The shards, barely larger than dust motes, swirled for a moment around them before settling on the wall, creating a portal. He gave her hand one last squeeze before they both walked through, into Lucius’ estate.

“Jareth.” A voice greeted them deeply. Sarah and Jareth both looked up to see Thranduil, in all his splendor, emerging from a portal of his own. 

“Thranduil, how…pleasant to see you,” Jareth said through gritted teeth. Sarah nudged him with her knee, indicating he should be nicer to his eldest brother. Jareth tried again. “Have you any idea why we’re here?”

Thranduil shook his head, his blond hair cascading down his resplendent robes. He arched an eyebrow at Jareth’s unkempt appearance, wild hair and dust on his jacket, before asking just a single word. “Goblins?”

Sarah stood forward, and Thranduil was surprised to see that the mortal girl looked as good as she did. When Jareth had tormented her years ago in the labyrinth, Thranduil had advised against it. When his brother later announced that they were to be wed, Thranduil washed his hands of the business. She looked right at home next to Jareth, though. Regal, and wild. 

“Yes, sadly,” she answered, taking Jareth’s hand again. “One of them got a hold of something they oughtn’t, and decided it would be a good idea to blow a hole in the side of our home.”

Thranduil could only hold in his mirth long enough to glance back at Jareth and really take in how disheveled his brother looked. Then he burst out laughing. Jareth looked up angrily at first, then caught the overall humor of the statement and situation, and laughed himself as he patted the dust off his jacket. 

“Here,” Thranduil offered, raising his hand over his brother, “let me help you with that.”   
An instant later, all signs of a struggle were gone from Jareth’s face and clothes, though his hair still remained a wild mess. Thranduil looked at it with confusion for a moment. That spell should have taken care of all of the signs.

“I like it this way,” Jareth said when he saw his brother’s face. 

Thranduil shrugged and nodded. That was Jareth’s way. 

 

The three of them walked toward the front of the opulent home, each in a state of awe and amusement at how hard Lucius was trying to impress those he ruled. The lawns were carefully manicured, the hedges cut to precision. Wandering over the soft gravel drive were two pure-white peacocks, looking as though they owned the place. 

Sarah muttered under her breath, “They suit him,” not remembering who she was with. The elvish and fae ears caught her statement and both men stopped to laugh at the alacrity. 

The enormous front doors opened as if on cue from their laughter, and all merriment cut off in an instant. There in the door stood Narcissa, looking splendid in a gown of black and gold swaths, cut to fit her perfectly. She looked out with expectation at the three guests and then smiled, inviting them in warmly.

“Lucius will be just a moment, he’s finishing the preparations. Please, do come in. It has been too long.”

Indeed, Lucius was preparing. He stood before the mirror in his dressing room, examining his reflection for any fault they might find in him. He brushed at a crease in his jacket shoulder, straightening it out. His silvery blond hair cascaded down his back like a waterfall, the one feature they all shared. He glared at it; the sign of familiarity with them. If only he’d had Jareth’s skills with glamouring, he would have changed it for this evening just to be different from the other two.

Clearing his throat, he stepped away from the mirror, finally satisfied that there would be nothing they could pick at about his appearance. This was supposed to be the celebration of his anniversary, not a reason for his brothers to attack him. He walked with a stately air to the door, opening it and descending the stairs haughtily. He knew they were here, he could feel them. 

That feeling galled him, it always had. 

For their part, the other two could sense him as well. It was a familial bond, a “gift” from their mother before she died. That they would always know where the other ones were, she had explained. None of them appreciated it. Now, Thranduil and Jareth stood in the front hall and both looked up at the same instant, seeing Lucius coming down the stairs. 

He looks like a debutant, Thranduil thought with mirth. 

He looks like his peacocks, Jareth smirked to himself. 

“Hello, brothers,” Lucius tried to sound gracious but only managed cold cordiality. “I am pleased my wife’s invitations reached you safely.” His tone said that he was not pleased by this, not at all. 

“Lucius, it is good to see you looking so…dazzling.” Thranduil said with a small smile. 

Lucius’ face grew red with embarrassment. “Why you—“ His words cut off as Narcissa cleared her throat loudly. 

“Would you all please join me in the parlor? I think you’ll be interested in what I have to show you,” she said, indicating the door to their left. 

Lucius wondered stubbornly where their other guests were. 

When they entered the parlor, they were greeted by a sight that took everyone’s breath away. Narcissa had outdone herself decorating. The chandelier twinkled brightly over a table she had brought in, which was covered with a large sheet. It was clear that there was something beneath it, but Narcissa wouldn’t raise the sheet just yet. Instead, she positioned each of the brothers on a side of the table, then took Sarah’s hand and led her to the fourth side, where she stood beside her.

“This feud has gone on long enough, you three.” She began in a no-nonsense voice, looking at each of them in turn. “Your mother’s plans for you were fine, before you decided to muck it up by hating each other.

“Lucius, my dear husband. You rule over these wizards, you control what they do and when they do it. They admire you, and you have a beautiful home, a loving wife, and a successful son. You managed to keep your family alive during the darkest hour our land has seen, protecting us from harm.

“Thranduil. You have control over the elves, and we all know they have thrived under your rule. You protect your people and their interests, and fought through your land’s darkest time to secure safety not only for your own kind but for all the races of your realm.

“And Jareth. You feel like you were saddled with the gag gift of goblins, but look at what you have done with that land. You turned it into a living landscape, bending to your will because your wild nature lets it run wild where it needs. You have a loving wife,” she smiled at Sarah, “and your subjects are loyal, if not always obedient.”

At this she raised the sheet from the table, revealing all three of their lands with a space in the middle, a land none of them recognized. The terrain was wild forests and high cliffs, sunny grasslands and a huge icy wall on one border. 

“This, gentlemen, is Westeros. I have brought you all here because your sister needs you. She means to take control of this land, and she will need your help. All of your help.” The last bit was said very pointedly, looking at each of their shocked faces in turn.

“Daenerys?” The three said in unison. 

“Yes,” Narcissa said, leaning over what they now realized was a battle map. “She has dragons, she has an army. Now she needs Elven,” she looked at Thranduil, “Fae,” she stared at Jareth, “and Wizard magic.” She turned to Lucius and smiled.


End file.
